Complicated But Inevitable
by twriter12
Summary: All things PerSalle.
1. The Call

_Hi. I like the banter/relationship between Percy and LaSalle, but I'm probably in the minority when I say it's not time for them to connect on the show. I feel like it hasn't been earned. The writers still have some work to do. They aren't at a point (for me) that their connection seems necessary, urgent, undeniable. I'm a girl who loves a good slow burn. But in the meantime, there's always fan fiction. This will be a collection of one-shots. I'm open to prompts but remember patience is a virtue. Actually, I'm just a professional procrastinator._

* * *

It was Sonja's first night of solitude in the new apartment since she and Gregorio moved in. There were endless housewarming parties that were mostly an excuse to drink and dance. When you chased the bad guys and dodged bullets you needed a release. But today she wasn't in the mood to party, at home or a bar. She didn't even have it in her to pretend. Her relaxation this evening would be in the form of mindless television, preferably one of those baking competitions. It took everything she had to convince Gregorio she was okay and simply in need of a quiet night in. Tough job when dealing with a bad ass former FBI profiler. Gregorio never let up and unfortunately her latest interest involved Sonja's love life. Gregorio was convinced her desire to close herself from society, an overstatement if Sonja ever heard one, was due to LaSalle.

"Finally," she said as she sat on the couch with a beer and a small bowl of kale chips. Just as she reached for the television remote there was a knock on the door. "Spoke too soon," she muttered as she headed for the door. Unexpected guests were on her list of dislikes. She looked through the peephole and on the other side was LaSalle.

She took a step back, her eyes darted around wondering what to do. For a moment, she considered pretending she wasn't there but that wasn't the mature thing to do. Since joining the team she had grown a lot, and LaSalle was profound in that growth, which included facing her shit. She didn't want to backslide. She was overtaken by that initial gut reaction of excitement and dread when you lay eyes on that complicated guy who couldn't be put in a single box like friend or co-worker, platonic or not.

She took a deep breath and looked down at her clothes before opening the door. She didn't speak. Didn't smile. Didn't motion him in. Gregorio was right. Her detached behavior the last couple of days _was_ about him. When her mind wasn't focused on their case, it drifted to him. What he did. How she felt as a result.

He stood there looking shy and cocky, a combination that made no sense but perfectly encapsulated Christopher LaSalle, her partner and friend who somehow managed to become something more, something that scared her. The entire team was close but she and LaSalle had a deeper, different bond. Or, at least they did. They clicked from the moment they met because they both loved to dish out the quips and because she was notorious for inserting herself in someone's business when they seemed lost. And Christopher LaSalle was one lost soul when she met him. A bipolar brother accused of murder and not long after a dead girlfriend. All she wanted was for him to be what she wasn't — okay — and that set them on the collision course of tension they currently lived.

"Everyone was wondering about you. Where you were. I told them you were probably making some of those smelly vegan snacks," he said in that thick Alabama accent that made him adorable and funny. It also lulled people into underestimating him. A dangerous miscalculation.

"Didn't feel like hanging out." She remained at the door, blocking his entrance.

"You gonna let me in?"

"You gonna ask?"

"Percy," he said before briefly looking down the hall, maybe regretting his decision to come over.

It was usually hard to resist that puppy dog expression he pulled on her. His goofball antics kept her the most carefree she had been in a long time. Though right now, she wasn't feeling amused. Despite her hesitation, she stepped aside and let him in.

"Got another one of those?" He nodded toward the beer in her hand.

She rolled her eyes and handed it to him. "Here. Meet me out on the balcony."

He laughed as he walked off.

When she joined him with three beers, two for her and another for him, he was sitting on the wicker couch. It was a hot night and the air heavy. Not a breeze to give reprieve from the humidity. They didn't speak, letting the music down below fill the void and prolong the start of a topic that always unnerved her. She leaned over the railing ad marveled at such a magical city that was full of music; it was 24/7. In restaurants, bars, street corners, and now it was the "thing that did something for them."

"The place looks even bigger without so many people," he said.

She grunted and shook her head. He wasn't here for small talk and though she wasn't interested in why he showed up at her place, small talk was even more insufferable.

"Percy, can we talk?"

She spun around and leaned against the railing. She sipped from her beer as she watched him.

"I messed up."

Her eyebrows raised. "Really? How so?"

"Gregorio already chewed me out. Let me tell ya, New York definitely got your back."

When Gregorio entered their lives as an FBI agent gathering information on them due to a mole investigation, they butted heads even though they worked damn well together. But since joining NCIS, she was fast becoming one of the truest friends Sonja ever had. The infraction that put him in Gregorio's cross hairs was him walking in the office making sure Sonja heard his phone conversation with who was surely the latest woman he had been entertaining.

"About?" She feigned ignorance.

"The call," he said softly like a guilty child.

That call was an embarrassing moment for her. Not only because he did it, but Gregorio saw right through it as well. He made her look like some poor fool chasing a guy who wasn't interested. Both those things were untrue; she wasn't chasing and he had an interest.

"I wasn't upset because of the conversation. I was... _am_ angry because you went out of your way to make sure I heard so I would feel bad."

"Did you?"

"Did I what?" She asked with more bite than she planned.

"Feel bad about the girl?"

Girl. He always referred to women as girls when they didn't mean anything more than crawfish and beers at some dive bar. When he didn't think about them in his life beyond the moment he was with them.

"Come on, LaSalle." He was smarter than that and if he wanted to have this conversation it was going to be real, straight no chaser. Not some placating bullshit. "That _is_ what was you were going for, wasn't it?"

"Sorry, Percy. That wasn't my intention. I'd never want to hurt you."

She joined him on the couch. Her body positioned toward him. A leg tucked beneath her. Her arm propped on the back of the couch. Resting her head on her hand. She stared at him, finding it hard to believe he didn't know what he was doing and how it would play out.

"What?"

"What hurts the most is that, when it's all said and done, that was your intention. How could it be anything else? You wanted to make me feel bad and I thought we were better than that. How could you do that? Things got uncomfortable so you treat me like some random?" She shook her head. "Hella disrespectful."

"I was trying to save us. Trying to end something before it started for both our sake."

"You already said it couldn't happen and I agreed because that's what I've always believed since we had that non-moment moment."

After a particularly tough case, one in which she was seconds from death, he was feeling particularly overprotective and when she wasn't receptive, he pulled her into a hug that sent her reeling. It was something she didn't know she needed until it happened. She felt a certain safety and calm as if she finally released a breath she didn't know she had been holding when she was in his arms. He held her tight and before she knew it she was doing the same. They pulled out of the hug but remained in each other's arms, faces so close. And then she saw it, how the look on his face shifted. How his eyes traveled from her eyes to her mouth. For a moment she was tempted to give in to the desire but she pulled away and practically ran out of the office, afraid to look back. Afraid of what she'd see. Afraid she wouldn't resist a second time.

"First, it was definitely a moment, and maybe, I don't know, I guess I was trying to remind myself."

"Then you _talk_ to me. Don't play a game with me. Don't give me the cold shoulder. We're supposed to be friends no matter what, LaSalle. What you pulled? That's not having my back."

"You're right."

She looked at him, studying him. She never met a man equally, if not more, complicated as herself. Since that hug they had numerous awkward moments but six weeks ago she was feeling particularly emotional herself after being jailed on perjury charges and he was there for her, fought for her and she thought she was showing her appreciation as she struggled to tell him just how much his support meant to her but he saw more. Maybe he was right, maybe she would have said something she would have regretted had he not stopped her.

"Were you jealous?"

She rolled her eyes.

"My mama will tell you your eyes gonna get stuck in your head with all that eye-rolling."

"You got me meeting your mama now?"

He laughed. She finished off her beer as she stared at the lights on the bridge. He was watching her. Even if she couldn't tell by her peripheral vision, she could feel his stare. It was deep. Penetrating.

"So?" He broke the silence.

"What?" She turned her head to face him but she didn't look in his eyes, she focused on his left ear.

"Were you jealous? I answered that question once. Only fair you do the same." He gave a small smile.

She held her head down in defeat and nodded her head. "A little. What good does it do us to know this about each other?"

"Honesty is always the best policy, right?"

She shook her head. "I don't agree."

He smiled. "Know where we stand. Maybe be a bit more considerate of how certain things about our lives makes the other feel. I'll go first. I'm gon' try, but the thought of sitting at Pride's bar and chit chatting and laughing with some guy you're dating and pretending it's all cool doesn't sound fun. At least not yet."

"Ditto."

"So this can't happen, right?"

Was that a question or a declaration. If she was being her most honest, she was apprehensive not against. If there was a such a distinction. She'd take the slightest in semantics right now. But admitting something like that to him or anyone would make her feel exposed. She already felt that way finally admitting it to herself. If he knew she was unsure she would feel like she had no control and she always needed to control any moment.

"Yes, Christopher. I agree. It would be messy." She looked up to the sky. "We're not insurance adjusters working in cubicles."

It would be a fatal blow to the team they worked so hard to keep together through FBI investigations and corrupt local politicians threatening to kick them out of New Orleans.

He chuckled then became somber. "This job takes an almost singular focus. It's hard enough being worried about everyone on the team. Can't imagine worrying about the woman I love."

Her breath caught. "That's what this would turn into? Love?" She cringed hearing her voice; she sounded almost child-like.

"You'd risk everything — our friendship and the team — for something less?"

"No."

"Didn't think so. Maybe in another life if we didn't work together. But now that I've got you as my partner, I never want to lose that. This team we have is something special. It don't come around often."

After years as an undercover ATF agent, setting her own rules and not thinking about others, it was a hard adjustment giving her trust to others. But just like LaSalle, this team meant everything to her. She looked down and ran her finger over the opening of the bottle. Her hair fell down and shielded her from his view, but not for long as he brushed her hair back. When he didn't remove his hand she smiled and shook her head.

"Mixed messages, Christopher."

"I ain't say this was going to be easy. Just necessary."

She frowned, not out of anger but confusion, something she felt often when it came to all things Christopher LaSalle. He sent her emotions into a tailspin. They danced this dance a few times. Alternating who did the leading. In a matter of seconds they always managed to go back and forth in words and actions regarding their feelings and what was best. She stood, needing to put distance between them.

"Never done easy. Not in my life," she said with a sigh.

Especially her love life. So complicated, she opted to not have one for a long time. It was LaSalle who helped her open up so she could truly be part of the team. That also made her more open to living a full life, which meant romance, but it wasn't supposed to be him she contemplated having that with.

"Despite what you said, I know you believe in being honest if not just plain blunt," he said as he walked over to her. "So can we both work on telling each other what's going on in our heads? Because you treating me like the enemy was no fun for me either."

She nodded. "Sorry, Country Mouse."

"We good now?" He asked.

"Yeah."

They were about to hug but opted for a safer display of affection, a fist bump.

"I'm gonna get going. See you tomorrow." He drained the last of his beer and handed her the bottle.

She took it and shook her head. "See ya."

She remained on the balcony, staring at the night as he closed the apartment door behind him. She wasn't sure how long this peace treaty would last. They may have apologized for being asses but that didn't change the fact that there was something between them.


	2. The Kiss

_First, thanks for the comments. Anywho, Persalleshipper101 wanted a kiss. Here we go._

* * *

Percy sighed loudly. "This is like looking for a needle in a haystack."

LaSalle glanced over to see her looking out the window of his truck. "We just started looking. We'll find her."

Despite his reassurance he was doubtful as well. It's easy to disappear in New Orleans. So many people lived their lives off the grid right in the heart of the city. Hiding in plain view. But he didn't think that would be a problem this time. Young people couldn't do anything without broadcasting what they did — from what they ate to where they went to what they were thinking.

They were searching for the teen daughter of a slain Naval officer who may have been a witness to his murder. One moment she was at NCIS headquarters speaking geek with Sebastian and Patton, who were supposed to be watching her, the next she gave them the slip. The two managed to mine her social media accounts and came up with a list of her possible locations. Gregorio and King were paying a visit to all her friends. Meanwhile, he and Percy were hitting a few of her favorite places around town.

"Here we are," he said as he put his truck in park.

"City Park," she said and looked at him. "Like I said, haystack."

He laughed. She did have a point. City Park was over 1,300 acres. But according to Patton, her pictures indicated there were three places she visited the most — the sculpture garden, the amusement park, and the botanical gardens. That was a start. In many ways, technology made police work a lot easier.

Once in the park, every one hundred or so yards they flashed their badges and a picture of the girl only to be greeted with the same response — no one had seen her though they barely looked at the picture. No one gave a damn anymore. Can't be bothered to find a missing girl, but let it be someone they loved.

"It still doesn't make sense," Percy said. "Why would they leave a witness behind?"

"Maybe they didn't want to kill a kid. Had some compassion."

"Nah." She shook her head. "We're not talking about a three-year-old. Lindsay is 17. More than capable of IDing whoever did this."

"You think she has something to do with it?"

"Dunno. Just got a lot of questions and she hasn't been generous with the answers."

The sculpture garden was a bust and there was a false lead that led them around the botanical garden. What little hope he had was fading quick. They walked up to a group of young guys hanging out under a large oak near the entrance to the amusement park. They looked to be in their early twenties.

"Seen this girl?" LaSalle held the photo in front of them.

One of them laughed. He was lean, wearing a white tank. "Man, you serious? See how many people out here? You asking have we seen a little blonde needle in a haystack."

He glanced over at Percy to see her pressing her lips together, desperate to not laugh, which, of course, made him want to laugh. He turned his attention back to the smart ass and stared. Silence made people uncomfortable. Made them talk, often more than they ever intended.

"Nah, man." He rolled his eyes.

They went back to searching and asking and coming up empty when Percy pulled out her phone then stopped.

"What's up?" He asked.

"Text message from Gregorio. They found her." She looked over at him. "At a friend's house."

He looked up. The sun would set soon but there was still enough daylight. "Come on, I want to show you something."

"What?" She asked with a frown.

"I can't really explain it. Just something better seen," he said as he continued walking.

It took a few minutes, five to be exact, and they walked it in silence, through the grove of live oaks draped with Spanish moss, past the laughing children, and romantic couples on picnic blankets. He loved New Orleans in the fall. The dog days of summer were a thing of the past and in their place, autumn sunshine and cool breezes.

"Here we go, right here." He pointed to the arched stone bridge up ahead. "This is one of my favorite places in the city," LaSalle said.

Not the bars, not Mardi Gras or the French Quarter. Along with the bayous, this was the New Orleans he loved.

"Really?" She threw him a skeptical look.

"Why you sound surprised?" He glanced at her. He couldn't help but smile at the doubtful look on her face.

She shrugged. "Don't know. Seems too zen for you."

They stopped at the highest point of the bridge. Ducks waddled in the pond. The lake was lined with weeping willow trees. Every time he came here it was always this way — serene, almost magical.

She placed her hands on the stone bridge and looked out across the water. He leaned down until they were the same height and looked straight down into the water. They were shoulder to shoulder.

"It's beautiful," she said. "How did you find this place?"

He knew she assumed it had something to do with a woman he dated or something equally roguish.

"My grandma, my mother's mother, loved it here. As a teenager back in Alabama, she loved this boy. Her family was uptight, always worried about perception. Image. But she didn't care about any of that, especially when he came to this boy because he made her laugh and made her heart smile, she said. And he cared about her dreams. She said she knew, even at sixteen, that it was the kind of love people wrote songs about, started wars over. But her parents didn't approve, wrong pedigree and all that. So they sent her away to prevent them from being together. She cried for months. Heartbroken for years. Never forgot about him. Compared every man to him.

She went on with her life. Got married. Had kids. Had grandkids. She was visiting. We brought her to the park and she found this place. All the years I'd lived here and I never knew about this small piece of heaven. She was standing about right here where we are when a man stood a few feet from her. They struck up a conversation. Both from Alabama, even more unbelievable, from the same small town that even people in Alabama had never heard of. And it was him, her long lost love. So random. Like it was meant to be. They got married a month later and he moved back to Alabama with her. To that same small town that told them they shouldn't be together."

When he finished he expected her to say something. Instead, it was met with silence. He looked over at her. She was looking at him in awe, eyes a bit wide. There, with the reflection of the water dancing across her face, he couldn't pretend he didn't want more. More than what they pretended to be. More than what they settled for.

Her lips separated just a bit and she exhaled slowly. "Whatever you're thinking," she started.

"You're thinking the same," he said as he slowly leaned in to close the distance between their faces. He moved slow enough to give her a chance to reject him but he prayed she wouldn't. Their eyes locked as he moved in and she watched him. Their mouths were mere inches apart.

"Christopher, we should stop before it's too late," she whispered.

"It's already too late. Whether we do this or not, you think it'll make a difference? You think walking away from this moment means something? We're here. If we don't we might as well have."

From the moment he hugged her things changed. No matter how much she denied it. No matter how much he tried to ignore it. He told her they were better off putting their feelings aside because what they were as a team was most important. She agreed. They put up a valiant effort to not cross a line.

"All the cards are on the table, Percy."

"No, not all of them."

"Well, at least one real important one is."

"And what's that?" She asked as her eyes lowered and focused on his mouth.

"That we both wanna do this."

"Do what, exactly?"

He leaned in the rest of the way until his lips were barely against hers. It sent a surge of electricity through his entire body. How was that even possible?

"No more non-moment moments," he said. "This here, is definitely a moment that even you won't be able to deny."

He waited for her to make the next move. He may have barely placed his mouth against hers but she needed to be the one to continue this moment. Her eyes closed and so did his. He waited for her to stop thinking and go with her feelings, to live in the moment. Just when he was about to give up, she kissed him. It was restrained. He enjoyed every second that every bit of their mouths touched. Near the end, he alternated between nibbling on her top lip and then her bottom one. He was enjoying being in the moment, so close and uninhibited, the feel of her lips against his. He didn't want it to end, especially when he heard the slightest hint of a moan from her. He wanted more of her but didn't want to do too much too soon and definitely not in public. Percy could be skittish, like a trapped animal ready to flee. One wrong move and that wall would go back up, higher and harder to penetrate than ever before. He knew patience was better than pressure.

When he pulled back her eyes were still closed. She was beautiful and he imagined them lying in bed together and watching her sleep. He imagined a lot of things that would probably freak her out.

She slowly opened her eyes. "Why did you bring me here? This place where your grandmother found her true love?"

Percy came into his life and quickly established a trust. Not only did he trust her with his life but with his deepest and most difficult feelings. Whether friends or more, he felt better with her around. That was never more clear than when he watched her get on a boat that was rigged to explode. He had never tried to prevent a partner from doing their job, but it was a setup, no one was expected to survive. In that moment, death was more acceptable than a life without her.

"I realized we weren't far from here. I hadn't been here since-" He stopped.

"Since when?"

Since Savannah but he didn't want to tell her that. This was about the present, and maybe the start of a future.

"A year or two." He stood up straight and stepped back just enough so he could breathe. Being so close to her made that simple act a hard thing to do.

She didn't look like she believed him but he was thankful she didn't push the issue. Instead, she nodded and took a deep breath.

"We should get back to the office." She took a few steps and stopped, turning to him. "Are we good? Or..."

He laughed. "You planned on acting like this didn't happen?"

She shrugged.

"Let's talk. After work," he said.

He stared at her until she gave in with a reluctant nod of her head then headed back to the truck. He smiled as he jogged to catch up with her. She never gave him an easy victory in this little battle they had; he wouldn't have it any other way.


	3. The Morning After

_**A/N: Well damn, PerSalle goes from slow burn to dead. It's not a real surprise that Shalita Grant is leaving the show because her sporadic absences made me think the worst, so I guess I was prepared to not get my shipping joy. Anywho, hope you guys enjoy this one.**_

* * *

Percy parked her car in front of LaSalle's place with a smile. Thanks to her recommendations the little red house with a tin roof now looked like a home instead of a bait and tackle shop. He even allowed her to drag him to the farmer's market to buy a few small shrubs for the front porch. Again, at her strong urging.

She looked up at the sky, a perfect shade of blue with picture perfect clouds. The sun was out and it wasn't stifling hot. Today was going to be fun. It was Saturday and it was college football season; they had a routine. One no one else knew about it — it was their thing and that's how they liked it. ESPN College Game Day followed by a full day of games and food. The scheduling gods were kind on this day. Florida State versus Miami, Michigan versus Ohio State and the day would end with Alabama hosting LSU.

She turned the knob and opened the green distress-finished door. Distressed due to a lack of care and not because LaSalle or the previous owner cared about decorating. "LaSalle," she screamed as she knocked on the screen door and gave a perfunctory three-second heads up before she barged in.

She didn't see his truck but the house was unlocked and something not quite country but not quite rock n roll was blaring from the stereo.

"Hey LaSalle," she called out as she looked around while headed for the back porch, led by the smell of the grill. "I got the lager." She placed it in the fridge. It was an incredibly well-stocked fridge, not with the typical bachelor fare, despite the massive amount of meat products. LaSalle, to her surprise, knew his way around a kitchen from steak and potatoes to the best ratatouille she ever had. He'd make a good husband for a woman who liked meat.

That thought was like a punch in the gut and she hated herself for feeling it. She knew she couldn't be that woman and she wanted him to be happy, yet she didn't like the idea of someone else. The conflicting emotions were difficult to deal with especially when she had to pretend, rather poorly, that she was happy about the latest woman he dated. They never stuck around too long though. Maybe it was because he knew she never approved of them. Did he dump them because of her? That made her feel guilty, that he gave up on relationships because of her.

She stepped out on the back deck LaSalle and his brother built. It was wooden and creaked under every step she took. The pieces of wood weren't all the same color, giving it a personality LaSalle said, and some were warped. Each time she was out there it took her awhile to feel confident in their carpentry skills. She was sure one day she'd fall through.

LaSalle's backyard view was of a beautiful lake and behind it was a backdrop of trees making it worth the commute now that he no longer lived in the city. The calm was nice compared to the constant noise and crowds in the French Quarter, his old stomping, or more like hunting, grounds. That wild atmosphere fit his personality back then but the move was in line with his new life choices — peaceful and intentional. He had grown a lot over the three years she had known him. In some way, his change more impressive than her own growth.

They helped each other see beyond their own comfort zones in ways both big and small. She got him to run with her and to attend one, and only one, yoga class. He took her on a swamp boat tour and was her guide during NOLA Navy Week. He tried a green smoothie and in return she tried some moonshine his brother brought back from Alabama. She was pretty sure if someone struck a match she would have been a fireball. But he was also there for her when she had to confront demons from her past and she was there to help him do the same.

She had an open invitation to hang out at his house. Even when there were no games to watch she took him up on the offer enough that Gregorio threatened to tail her to see where she was spending her off time. She made veiled comments but never came out and said anything, which made Percy believe Gregorio had an idea her time away from home, at least some of the time, involved LaSalle. His home had somehow become her respite from the chaos.

She lifted the top off the grill to find a slab of ribs. She frowned and put the top back on. She may have forced him to deal with losing his girlfriend in a more positive way than courting death and one-night stands but he would never give up meat. She heard the sound of what she assumed was his truck and then the opening and slamming of the front door. She walked in the kitchen just as he entered it.

"Hey, thought I could make it back before you got here."

She smiled at the mere sight of him. He had a bag in one arm and a white styrofoam cup in the other hand. He looked relaxed, happy, and adorable in his blue jeans, Alabama T-shirt and backwards crimson baseball cap.

"You just left the door open."

"I'm a crazy federal agent from Alabama with a gun. Gotta have a death wish to try anything."

She laughed.

"Got that milkshake you like. Hemp milk. Omega 3s."

She smiled and took a sip. Her eyes widened and she let out a little squeal of enjoyment. He remembered the things she liked and not just for their Saturday game days. His fridge always had something she could eat. He once studied YouTube videos so he to make her jackfruit tacos. This time the menu was baked sweet potato fries and a spicy black bean burger. It was frozen, but it was the thought that counted. Besides, she could doctor it up with avocado and salsa she saw in the fridge.

"What else you got?" She stood on her tiptoes and eyed the brown paper bag.

"Had a taste for some corn on the cob."

"On the grill?"

"Of course. Come on," he headed out back. "I'll put a piece of lettuce on the grill for you."

"Ha ha, very funny," she said as she followed him onto the deck.

The doors, front and back, remained open to let in the air while the screen doors were closed to keep out the bugs. The cross ventilation was nice until the temperature dropped that evening and neither of them felt like getting up to close the doors. Instead, they wrapped themselves in his Crimson Tide throw that was always on the couch.

It was time for some real football as LaSalle said. The first two games lived up to the hype and she hoped the last one, the only one LaSalle truly cared about, the 'Bama game, followed suit.

They made a bet on their alma maters. Well, his alma mater and her adopted team, LSU. Her alma mater, Tulane, wasn't known for football so cheering for LSU was the next best thing and great for ribbing LaSalle.

"I don't know why Orgeron keeps trying to run," LaSalle said. "Their ground game is stuck in the mud. You guys ain't got Fournette no more."

"We've got a young QB group. Not a starter out of the bunch. Running is the best option."

There was a lot riding on this game for Alabama. It was late in the season and a loss could knock them out of the playoffs. LSU was playing for pride and spoiler status only. While she loved giving LaSalle a hard time and even wagered a bet, ultimately she wanted Alabama to win. He took Alabama football serious and losses hard. She could handle typing his reports for the next month.

It was an exciting game but it had been a long day after a long week thanks to their latest case of stolen military equipment in Belle Chase. She was just nodding off when suddenly he leaned forward screaming, pumping a fist in the air.

"Hey," Percy protested.

"Sorry." He sat back and she resumed her position with her head on his shoulder. He put the blanket around her again.

By the fourth quarter the game was a blow out. LSU ran out of gas, unable to keep up with an Alabama team many said could compete with a couple of bad NFL teams. It took a few attempts on his part before she heard him say her name. Finally, she looked up to see LaSalle smiling at her.

"Great game," LaSalle said.

"Did we win?"

"If by we you mean Alabama, then yeah."

She groaned and shook her head.

"Don't be that way." He brushed the hair away that had fallen in her face. His other hand pulled her closer against him. What was playful at first quickly became something intimate. Her eyes closed at the feel of his hand as he continued to brush his hand through her hair. It felt good. So good she was disappointed when it stopped.

She opened her eyes to see him staring at her. He had that slight smile that was a mixture of mischief and sweetness. "What?" She whispered.

"How do you look so beautiful after just waking up?"

She could read him just as well as he could read her. So she knew he saw the moment she realized what was happening. When she seemed to admit to herself that she liked it. And the final moment, when she gave in to what she felt and had been fighting for so long.

They stared. They did what they did best — hesitated, wondering how far they should go, who would end things before they began this time. She figured that's what would happen again. One of them would get up, laugh, and change the subject by talking about work because there was nothing sexy about stolen military property, terrorism, or dead sailors. But what usually happened didn't happen this time. He gripped the side of her neck and leaned in toward her, he placed his mouth gently against hers at first as if taking a taste before devouring her.

And devour is what he did. What started as soft nibbles and pecks, sensual sucking of her lips quickly escalated as their tongues battled for position. Neither could get enough of the other after years of pent up passion the floodgates seemed to burst. It felt like an eternity since she felt consumed by someone. She forgot how dizzying it could make a girl feel. When she heard him moan she pulled him closer to her as if their bodies could meld into one.

He tossed his cap on the floor and pulled her by her legs so she was flat on her back on the couch and hovered over her a moment, taking her in, making her nervous and aroused, before kissing her again.

When would this stop, she didn't know. But she was enjoying it for what it was and would take it moment by moment. Feeling by feeling. Kiss by kiss. Enjoy the moans of appreciation they gave each other for skills they didn't know the other had. She would face the consequences the next day.

* * *

She could hear the patter of the rain hitting the tin roof. For a few seconds she thought she was back at her old ATF undercover house. But then she remembered where she was and who she was with the previous day.

She was awake but she wasn't ready to open her eyes. Her head was a bit foggy and there was a delay in processing. Whatever happened, she could feel it, from her head to her toes. Her body felt tired, spent, even a bit sore. She slid her hands beneath the sheet and ran them over her naked body and her eyes flew open. She turned her head slowly to see a sleeping, shirtless LaSalle next to her. She felt short of breath as she went into a mild panic. If she had been dressed she could pretend. More than pretend, she could lie to herself that she didn't have sex with LaSalle, her friend, her partner. That they just fell asleep in the same bed as friends. But it was impossible to deny the truth.

Quietly she slid out of bed. Years of undercover work required her to master stealth mode — mentally and physically. She searched the room and found all her clothes minus shirt and shoes. She got dressed and headed for the bedroom door, ready to make her escape.

"Gonna sneak out?"

Shit. She didn't turn to face him. Didn't say a word. Just stood there and waited.

"Go have a seat and wait for me. I'll be out in a minute."

She followed his instructions like a child caught in the act. Once out in the living room she found her shirt and shoes on the floor by the couch in a pile along with LaSalle's shirt and baseball cap. She finished dressing and found her keys on the kitchen counter. She stood around waiting, she paced then finally she sat. After years of thinking about it, she had sex with LaSalle and she wasn't sure what to think or how to feel about it. She should have stuck with the milkshake instead of switching over to lager and then tequila.

She played in her head everything she wanted to say and it all sounded like excuses. Pathetic ones. She would rather be silent and offer no explanation or words of what it meant and what was to come. Could they forget about it? Then a vision flashed in her head — of LaSalle carrying her to the bedroom with her legs wrapped around him as they kissed. She squeezed her eye shut, unsure if she was trying to relive it or erase it from her memory.

She looked over in the direction of his bedroom. She was anxious so she folded his shirt and placed it on the couch, then rearranged items on the coffee table. She thought back to the previous night. What all did they do? And where? And how? And why now after all this time?

LaSalle came out of the bedroom with his jeans on, unbuttoned and hanging off his slender hips. He walked past her and grabbed his T-shirt. His arm grazed her thigh and she jumped slightly but enough that he noticed.

"Had too much to drink," she blurted out. Shit. It sounded even worse out loud. What happened to silence over excuses?

"Really, Percy? That's how you wanna play this?" He pulled the shirt over his head then stared at her.

"No, sorry." She played with her fingers. Looking at him was difficult after what happened. This awkwardness was just one reason she was hesitant to act on her desires.

He headed to the kitchen. "Want some orange juice? It's vegan," he joked.

"I really need to get going." She stood and headed for the door.

"Or would you rather talk about it Monday morning?"

She sat back down. LaSalle had to be pushed, kicking and screaming, to talk about the things he wanted to avoid, but here he was pushing her to talk when she didn't want to face this uncomfortable shit. She didn't want to put herself out there only to be denied and she didn't want to reject him. A conversation would undoubtedly force them to navigate a minefield full of uncomfortable truths and hurt feelings.

"I'm not going to pretend I feel bad about last night because I don't." He placed a glass in front of her. "You didn't say you didn't want any."

She enjoyed their night together. A lot. She wasn't too drunk to remember that. There was never a doubt if they made their friendship physical that it would be great. It was the way he handled danger. How delicate he was with kids. How passionate he was about the things he liked. Her body shivered as if his hands were still gliding across her skin. But it wasn't about when they were together that was the problem. What happened when they climbed out of bed?

"What happened to doing what's best for the team? This isn't good for the team," she said.

"How is it bad?" He reclined on the couch. He was frustratingly relaxed. "I'm thinking, now that it's happened we were both overthinking it."

She wanted to slap herself for the sudden desire to straddle him that rose out of nowhere. Another moment flashed. This time he was kissing her neck as he unbuttoned her shirt. She shook her head and cleared her throat. "What changed? Why are you all for this now? You were damn sure this couldn't happen. I told you it was hard to turn back the clock and go back to being friends. I finally get past that and here we are."

"You think you got past it? We never really went back. Those thoughts never left our minds. We just didn't say anything about it."

It was true for her and she didn't know how to feel about the fact that he struggled with the same. She thought he was past it, with all the dates and carefree attitude. She only pretended in order to save face.

"It was a huge mistake." She stood and began to pace.

"You were right there with me." He asked.

"LaSalle," she said with a sigh. Admit it, she told herself. He deserved it. "I'm not saying I didn't want to do this. I wanted to. It was great. I've had some type of feelings or connection to you, I've been drawn to you from almost from the moment we met. You're an amazing guy, Christopher."

"So what's the problem?"

"The problem is if we had a hard time before sex, what do you think it'll be like now?"

"Maybe we had a hard time because we were denying what we were feeling."

"And what if we try this, whatever this is, and it doesn't work out?"

"We're always going to have each other's back."

"I know that."

"Then what's the problem?"

She stopped and stared at him, studied him looking for an answer to all the questions in her head. Maybe he was on some 'life is short' kick since his father's death, but this wasn't the guy that gave her a firm stiff arm after she was released from jail. When she was feeling overwhelmed by emotions over the way he protected her and fought for her.

"The problem is when other people are involved," she said. "When you have to choose between me and doing the right thing and the clear choice is the right thing but you choose me anyway. Like when you tried to stop me from getting on that boat with the bomb."

He shook his head. "That was-"

"Out of line, you making me look like I can't handle my job in front of our boss. And it'll happen again. You risked blowing the mission and saving lives because you didn't want me to get hurt."

"You're my partner."

"So is Gregorio but you've never tried that with her. Or what, you think she's a better agent than me?"

"No."

"Damn right." She smiled. "That just proves the point. It's get in the way."

"Look, I figure being honest about this is a lot better than the maybe-maybe not. Gregorio, Sebastian, and Patton have a bet for when this would happen and that's pretty damn distracting. Studying our every move and trying to gauge how we feel about each other based on if we're standing next to each other from day to day."

He walked over to her.

"Sonja, denying it, ignoring it, I know that hasn't worked so far. I messed up telling you it was all about the team but the truth is, I doubted myself. I didn't want to screw up our friendship and the team if I hurt you. That's what I was scared of. So no more excuses. We should try. If nothing else, try because I think it'll work."

"Christopher." Sometimes he bewildered her with his belief that everything would work out simply because he wanted it to.

She wasn't afraid he'd hurt her; there was a strong possibility the roles would be reversed. He knew her as a federal agent, a partner, a friend — but not the woman who was afraid of true intimate commitment. Just opening up to the team when she joined NCIS was hard as hell. Pride was patient but doubtful, and even LaSalle questioned if they should accept her into the fold.

So the truth was, she didn't trust herself to not hurt him. To not walk away when things got tough.

"I need time to think about this." He was about to speak and she placed her finger against his mouth. "Not to make a decision, just to get my thoughts together."

"Fair enough."

He leaned down and kissed her again, full and passionate as if it could be the last one. She returned the kiss, knowing the possibility was great that it could very well be their final kiss.


End file.
